Get Out!


So the other day, I sat by this girl in class who couldn’t just stay out of my space! I mean, the space was just enough for a voluptuous chocolate beauty like me;););), now imagine having someone literally breathing all over my face, talking in my ears and spreading food all over my body!


Why can’t people just man their spaces and not get into someone else’s? Why must you keep touching my arm, stroking my hair and twirling the strap of my handbag between your fingers all because you’re so engrossed in whatever you’re saying and you can’t help but ‘touch something’.
Keep your hands to yourself!

Oya, die O!

Don’t touch me, I don’t know you like that!

Don’t hug me (Well, a greeter I was meeting for the first time gave me a you-look-really-good-hug in church last Sunday so… Maybe there are exceptions😌😌😌) or slap my butt as I pass (Girls are so guilty of this) or sniff my skin, if we don’t have that kind of relationship (Those that you have that kind of relationship with know!)
Don’t slap my butt on any occasion, whether I know you like that or not. I repeat, DO NOT! There’s nothing right about butt-slapping… except the person is a donkey!

Don’t take/use my stuff without my permission (There are various exceptions to this rule, based on the individual) and if you do, don’t even let me know you did – that means you should put it back just how you met it or, tell me you picked my stuff (Not that I will now be looking for it upandan, oblivious of your violation of my fundamental human right. Yes! Fundamental Human Right!)

Note: Never ever ever ever use my roll-on, mascara, powder brush, toothbrush, sponge, socks, or any other thing that is PERSONAL! Unless you’re me, myself or I.
That is why they are personal!

Don’t snuggle up to me if you’re not my Boo, my baby or a puppy; or if I don’t ask that you hold me. I don’t exactly enjoy undue body heat!

Me, when someone is infringing on my space!

Don’t sneeze or cough on me or spill out saliva on me! If you ever mistakenly do, apologise like I’d kill you if you don’t. Because I will – with my eyes😠😠😠

If you try to start a conversation with me and I keep responding with low-toned, monosyllabic words, and you ask what’s wrong with me and I tell you nothing, it probably means that I’m not exactly interested in talking at that point or I’m not interested in talking with you!
Don’t force a conversation down my throat, it’s not candy na!

Keep your child to yourself!
After all, he’s your child, not mine.
Why do people think that because they have multiple toddlers and multiple luggage, the person sitting next to them in/on a bus/bench automatically has to become their baby-sitter or a dustbin?
I know this would probably sound mean, especially to we Africans but, it is the bitter pill that must be swallowed!
Na your pikin!

If you ask that I help hold your child and I agree to, it’s fine. If I offer to help with your baby, it’s ok. If it’s neither of the above cases, then please, for Shawarma ‘s sake (Yes, I now love Shawarma:|:|:|), keep your child(ren) to yourself!

Note: if you ask that I help with your child or I offer to help with your child and he ends up being a pain in my neck, I will give him back to you.
Na your pikin!

And finally, for those of you that never seem to be able to keep your eyes to yourselves, those of you that just like looking at people for no reason, so much so that they begin to wonder if their clothes are torn or if they have an extra head…

Again, I’m out!

Now, isn't that just freaky! Geraway stalker!

Na your pikin – He’s your child
Upandan – Up and down

Photo Credits:,,,,,, Chronicles of a Mixed Fat Chick


5 thoughts on “Get Out!

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